Cometh the hour, cometh the man
by Chevron7Lock
Summary: When SG-1 are captured, and all the other teams are unavailable, the president writes them off. But one man has other ideas...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Just a little story I thought up. I should get on with my other story, but I couldn't resist this very silly idea...

**Cometh the hour, cometh the man**

CMSgt Walter Harrimen sat and stared out of the window of the control room at the ancient ring sitting innocuously in the next room. Nothing was happening – well, as close to nothing as the SGC ever got. All that had managed to go wrong during his shift so far was a blown lightbulb, a reboot of the dialling computer, SG-14 coming in hot having been ambushed by the Goa'uld, a broken generator, and Siler being put in the infirmity trying to fix said generator.

Yep. For the SGC in the middle of the night, not much at all. Not like the previous few days, which were some of the busiest Walter had ever seen at the SGC.

But, as Walter had once said to another technician, a team could be about to come through the gate at any second, under fire and needing the medical team.

Of course, he'd said that right before the gate in question had vanished from the gate room, so he wasn't going to think that thought now.

Walter's thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable sounds of the Stargate dialling in, and the chevrons locking into place. The SF teams stormed into the gateroom as the iris slid shut and Walter yelled into the microphone the inevitable phrase:

"Unscheduled offworld activation!"

"Any ideas who?" said General Hammond as he jogged into the room, still wearing his coat – he had obviously only just arrived for the morning.

"Receiving IDC sir – it's SG-9. Opening the iris. Also receiving audio-"Walter replied as he turned the volume up. They heard the unmistakable sounds of gunfire and energy blasts coming through the speaker, just before a staff weapon blast flew through the opening iris and slammed into the concrete, blowing a sizeable hole in the concrete near Walter's head.

"SG-9 coming in hot! Closing the blast doors -" Walter's attention flicked up to the monitors now showing video images of the gate room. More blasts filled the air as the SF's ducked for cover around the room. Two people stumbled through the gate and threw themselves on the ramp. Tense seconds past before two more figures flew out of the wormhole and onto the ramp, so fast they almost made it to the concrete beyond.

"Closing the iris! Medical team to the gate room!" Walter shouted as he hit the palm scanner with one hand while raising the blast shields with the other.

"Could we just program the computer to say your catchphrases instead of having to pay you?" quipped Hammond as he hurried out the room to check on SG-9.

* * *

Walter cautiously knocked on the door of General Hammond's office. He really didn't want to add to the man's problems. SG-9's dramatic arrival that morning had only been the next on the list of the problems they'd been having. Virtually all the SG teams had been put out of action in some way this week – half of them were recovering in the infirmary from various ailments, and the other half were all already out in the field. There was a nasty flu bug going round, so half of all personnel were off sick anyway. Now Walter had some news he frequently delivered and always hated.

"Sir... SG-1 have missed their scheduled check-in time. We haven't heard any reports of the ship being destroyed either, so we must assume they have failed and been captured..."

SG-1 had been assigned to destroy yet another of Apophis' new types of ship. This one had some sort of special weapons power core or something, according to Major Carter, or so Walter had heard – he didn't pretend to understand what the geeks talked about most of the time. He just punched the chevrons. All he knew was that SG-1 had requisitioned a large amount of C4 before they had left.

Hammond sighed and put down his pen.

"I thought this might happen. Next time we get some intel from the Tok'ra I might be tempted just to ignore it... what options do we have for a rescue?"

"Well sir, not many. We hardly have any SG teams ready for action after the last week – I think SG-18 are the only ones in rotation at the moment."

"Have them gear up for a rescue, then Sergeant. Tell them to bring SG-1 home." Hammond replied with determination.

Walter waited a beat before replying.

"Sir, SG-18 are a diplomatic unit."

Hammond looked up, his brow furrowing.

"So they are. Well, who else do we have Walter?"

There was another pause.

"Well, there's you and me, sir..." Walter replied with a small smile, "but no front line teams, I'm afraid."

"I'll have to call the president on this one, see if we can't get someone in." the General replied, picking up the red phone. Walter took this as his cue to leave, and stepped out of the office, back towards the nice, safe control room.

* * *

Walter knew it wasn't good when he saw the General stride into the control room several minutes later. He did _not_ look happy.

"I've been ordered not to attempt a rescue of SG-1, " Hammond started, before being interrupted by Walter.

"_What?_ Sir, you can't do that. They've come through for us before – we owe them this..." replied Walter vehemently.

"Well, Sergeant, unless you can magic personnel out of thin air here, we have no-one to go. And the president won't give us anyone else, as 'no-one is available'. Kinsey's doing, I bet." Hammond sighed.

"But sir... we owe it too them to try."

"With who, Sergeant? You seem to be the only one not sick, injured, offworld or missing right now."

Walter looked around and realised the General was right. He was the gate tech left, and he'd hardly seen anyone else all day, even at the usually bustling corridors of the SGC. It was time for drastic action. SG-1 had saved Earth and along with it, him on multiple occasions – now it was time to repay the favour. Walter stood up to his admittedly short full height, wishing he had the presence Dr. Fraiser had when she wanted.

"Sir! Requesting permission to go through the gate and rescue SG-1!"

General Hammond was so surprised he nearly fell over.

"What? You? Rescue SG-1? _On your own? _Do you realise how many Goa'uld there are on that ship?"

Walter realised he needed a different plan of attack.

"Sir! Requesting permission for 24 hours leave!"

Hammond looked Walter straight in the eye for a long moment. He sighed resignedly.

"Permission granted." The words had hardly left his mouth before Walter was a blur running down the corridor. General Hammond sat down heavily in Walter's seat and closed his eyes. Was the universe just playing a big joke him today, or was he dreaming?

* * *

Walter ran into the gate room passed the amazed SF team guarding the door. No longer was he wearing the blue jumpsuit and his headset. Instead, he wore black combat fatigues, an armoured vest and boots. He was carrying a zat and a pistol on his hip, a backpack full of explosives and sharp things, a shotgun over his shoulder, and an assault riffle was cradled in his arms. He jogged up to the start of the ramp and loaded his weapon.

Or he tried to, at any rate, as the magazine fell out when he let go of the handle.

Walter closed his eyes, and decided he would try to recover his lost pride. He turned and yelled for the gate to be dialled what he hoped was an impressive voice, while slamming the magazine back into the rife.

The magazine stayed in... but the sounds of the gate dialling were conspicuous only by their absence.

He waited a beat before turning around to see what was happening. Behind him the SF at the door had not managed to pick his jaw off the floor. Behind the glass of the control room, he could see General Hammond at the console – hitting random buttons on the console. After a moment, the General keyed the microphone hesitantly.

"Walter... I think you're going to come and dial it yourself..." he said sheepishly.

Walter's shoulders slumped as he turned and trudged back to the control room. _So much for looking like SG-1,_ he thought.

Several minutes later, Walter once again stood at the bottom of the ramp, this time facing an open wormhole. He heard the microphone come on again.

"You have a go. Good luck and godspeed... Walter." the General announced. Walter snapped off a crisp salute before turning to face the wormhole. He began to walk up the ramp before he had an idea. He stopped. He loaded his rifle this time more successfully, and took the safety off.

_Here goes._

Walter turned and charged into the wormhole, spraying bullets out of the rifle into the event horizon while screaming an unintelligible battle cry. Empty cases flew everywhere as he disappeared into the blue puddle, but the shouting reverberated around the concrete room for several seconds. The next sound to be heard was General Hammond's head hitting the console as the wormhole disconnected.


	2. Chapter 2

Walter burst through the gate on the other side, hearing the thunks from the bullets he'd fired through. They had taken down several tree branches... but no Jaffa. _Well, not that I mind_, thought Walter, as he headed out from the unguarded Stargate. The Stargate was positioned in a clearing in some trees, as he had so often seen from the cameras on the MALP – but not in person. He could see the mothership up ahead, looming over the forest and surrounding area. Walter remembered what he had been told in basic training – he needed cover. He jogged over to the trees and dived into the undergrowth, creeping forward amongst the foliage. It didn't take him long to reach the entrance to the mothership.

He could see through a gap in the trees that there were a group of Jaffa guarding the doors. They didn't look particularly alert, but Walter had seen enough blasts come through the gate when teams had come in hot to know that he didn't want to tangle with them and their weapons. He needed... a distraction.

A few minutes later, Walter shuffled back into his position and got ready. He pulled out a small detonator, flipped the lid, and pressed the red button. _And to think that I thought things were boring this morning._

A huge explosion ripped through the still air as the explosives Walter had planted blew up in the trees. He felt almost sorry for the trees.

"Jaffa, kree!" The Jaffa ran out from the door towards the source of the explosion, and Walter ran the opposite way as soon as they left. It wouldn't fool them for long, and they'd know something was going on, too. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea?

Walter ran into the hallway, and for a moment was staggered by the sheer amount of gold and opulence on the mothership. It wasn't quite like the functional concrete hallways of the SGC. However, he only had pause to think for a few seconds because he could hear the unmistakable sound of Jaffa boots on the floor coming from down the corridor. Walter dived at the nearest door and hammered randomly on the control panel, now realising that he probably should listen more when Dr. Jackson talked about Gou'ald languages and how to read them.

Just in time, the door opened and Walter dived through. He hammered on the panel on the opposite side of the door in a similar way and the door closed. He slumped to the ground in relief and sighed. Walter hadn't quite appreciated just how scary missions like this sometimes were. _How can SG-1 pull this sort of thing off every week? Pull yourself together Harriman, it was only one patrol_, he thought to himself.

Once Walter had calmed down, he looked around the room he found himself in. He'd had a quick look at plans for the mothership the Tok'ra had got hold of before he'd left, and he could see he was in some sort of storeroom. The lights were dim and boxes were stacked in neat rows. It looked like supplies of some sort – possibly ammunition and weapons. Walter knew from his role at the SGC exactly how boring signing paperwork to requisition things was. Paperwork seemed to be a universal constant, no matter where you were in the universe.

Once again Walter's thoughts were interrupted by a noise. This time, it was the door opening and a Jaffa walking in!

Both froze momentarily, looking at each other, before Walter pulled his Zat out and squeezed the trigger. He missed the Jaffa completely , but managed to accidentally hit the wall panel with the door controls on it. This caused the door to drop – knocking the Jaffa unconscious on the floor. _Wow. Bet I couldn't do that again if I tried, _he thought. He shot the panel again, and the door opened. _Much better than hitting the buttons. _He poked his head out the door and looked around, seeing that the Jaffa seemed to have gone past. Time to move on.

Walter crept down the corridor towards his goal – he knew the brig was located fairly close to the heart of the ship. He poked his head round the corner and saw two more Jaffa guarding the entrance. _SG-1 must be in there, it wouldn't be guarded otherwise._ Walter pulled his rifle into his shoulder, clicked the safety off, flew round the corner and let fly on fully automatic.

The Jaffa were so surprised at the small man rounding the corner dressed in black they didn't even have time to shout out before they fell at the onslaught of bullets bouncing off the walls. Walter kept firing until the weapon clicked, out of rounds. He stood there, slightly shocked at what he'd just done. He hadn't killed anyone before. Well... actually, come to think of it, he was the one who kept the iris in position all the times the Goa'uld tried to come through, so that wasn't true. But he consoled himself with the fact that it was all for SG-1.

* * *

Colonel O'Neill twisted his wrists inside the ropes tying them to the ceiling, trying to get some feeling back into them. They'd been trussed up by the Jaffa as if they were turkey or something.

"Bit of a clichéd way to tie us up, campers, don't you think?" he said, trying to break the tension built up in the small room.

"Yeah... I think I prefer it when they tell us to bow before them. I get worried when they skip that bit and just tie us to the ceiling anyway." replied Daniel. He was cut off by the sound of gunfire outside.

"You guys hear that?" asked O'Neill.

"Indeed," replied Teal'c. "It sounds as if someone is being indiscreet with their ammunition usage."

They then heard the sound of a Zat being discharged, and the door slid up.

"Walter!"

"Hi guys." said Walter, grinning, as he came through the door. Once again, he was treated to the sight of jaws being picked up off the floor in surprise.

"Erm... What brings you here?" asked Sam.

"Well, none of the SG teams were available, and the president couldn't send anyone else...so... you got the chevron guy!"

They all grinned as Walter cut them down from the ceiling and handed out the weapons.

"I have to tell you guys, it's been a lot of fun, but I think we're going to be found out soon..."

"Really..." muttered O'Neill, as they heard the distinctive sounds of boots clomping down the hallway towards them from both directions. "I'll take point, Carter behind me, Daniel, Harriman, Teal'c take our six."


	3. Chapter 3

The team burst out of the room firing in all directions. Walter was quite glad he was in the middle of the group – he could leave it to the experts now. He came out of the door firing the zat as fast as he could– into the opposite wall.

"Harriman!" shouted Jack. "What are you _doing_?"

_Well, there _could_ have been Jaffa there, _Walter grumbled to himself as he turned to fire in the correct direction, and managed to hit a couple of the Jaffa. The team advanced along the corridor, the team firing in all directions as they bunched up at a corner. The Jaffa seemed to be advancing from everywhere – they really didn't want SG-1 to go anywhere.

"Bright ideas anyone?" yelled Daniel as he loaded a magazine into his pistol.

"Just keep firing! There can't be that many of them!" shouted Sam as he took down another wave of armoured Jaffa.

Walter was suddenly struck by a brainwave. He stopped firing the zat, knelt down and started pulling items out of his rucksack.

"Sergeant Harriman, I believe it would be unwise to search for sustenance at this time!" shouted Teal'c.

_I'm not looking for food,_ grumbled Walter internally. He ducked as rounds flew past them in the corridor. His hands found the objects he had been searching for and he pulled them out of the rucksack. It was a pair of radios. He tossed one down a corridor and into a corner as they ran past. He then pulled out the other one and turned the volume to maximum.

"Harriman!" shouted Jack. "What are you _doing_?"

"Distraction, sir!" Walter yelled back. "The radios can be very loud on maximum – it'll sound like we're in two places at once."

"That _would_ be handy..." Jack muttered under his breath.

"Actually, sir, that wouldn't be possible, as entropic cascade failure would..." Sam was cut off in mid babble by Walter beginning to speak into the radio.

"Erm... She sells sea shells on the sea shore... Tom's old aunt sat on her coat and hat... Erm... Chevron ten will not lock..."

Walter kept up the drivel as they sprinted down more endless corridors. _Unbelievably,_ thought Jack, _this does seem to be working. The Jaffa are actually going the other way._

"... Unauthorised inbound chocolate bars... please don't eat the gateroom..."

Jack shook his head. Walter had clearly lost it in the heat of combat.

"O'Neill! The exit is ahead!" Teal'c brought Jack back to reality as he squeezed of his final rounds towards the Jaffa guarding the entrance.

"… Open the iris... I'll take a pretty picture with it..." Walter was once again interrupted, this time by a roar of rage from somewhere behind. _Oops. Looks like they've found the radio. _

"Ok Harriman – enough of the nonsense! I take it you brought a detonator and a GDO with you in that bag of tricks?"

"Yes sir!" Walter replied as they ran out of the doors of the mothership and back into the sunlit forest.

"Wait until we're a good distance away, then blow it. Give the GDO to Daniel. Now, time for the famous SG-1 manoeuvre - the 'run like hell'."

* * *

The five sprinted into the clearing that held the Stargate, energy blasts flying around them from the Jaffa, hot on their tail. They'd blown the mothership to small pieces a few minutes ago. Unfortunately, this made the Jaffa ever more determined to find them. SG-1 sprinted for their lives while firing over their shoulders, now all on their last magazines of ammunition. Walter simply sprinted for his life.

The Jaffa came into the clearing proper when they were still about fifty meters from the gate. Jack started barking out instructions.

"Sam, take the left. Teal'c take right. Daniel, send the IDC code. Walter, dial it up!"

Walter ran over and skidded behind the console, by this point not even thinking about ducking for energy blasts, but doing it automatically anyway. He slammed down the first glyph on the DHD.

"Chevron one encoded!"

He hit the next glyph.

"Chevron two encoded!"

Jack closed his eyes and counted to five before turning around.

"Harriman!" shouted Jack. "What are you _doing_?"

Walter looked up and saw at least a whole platoon of armoured, dangerous and very angry Jaffa storming towards them, and decided that he might be able to shorten his beloved dial sequence a little.

"Chevrons three, four, five, six and seven encoded!" yelled Walter as he punched the next glyphs in quick succession, looking up to see the wormhole blossom into shape in front of them.

"Fall back to the gate!" shouted Jack as the team rolled out from their hiding places behind rocks and started one last dash for the gate. Jack saw Walter hovering at the mouth of the wormhole.

"Harriman!" shouted Jack. "What are you _doing_?"

"I'm not going without you, sir!" Walter yelled back as they all jumped through the gate together.

* * *

"Offworld wormhole is connecting!" shouted an unfamiliar voice into the intercom as General Hammond jogged down the stairs. He didn't recognise the technician at the console – and his catchphrases really weren't as good as Walter's. Not that he was planning on telling Walter that, right now – if he ever could.

"SG-1's IDC, sir. Opening the iris." Hammond raised his eyebrows as he hurried into the gateroom. Maybe Walter had come through after all?

The four members of SG-1 stumbled through, with Walter in their midst. As the iris slid shut behind him, General Hammond walked up to the team.

"Well done SG-1, and well done Sergeant Harriman. You will be pleased to know there will be no punishment for disobeying orders and rescuing SG-1 - the president decided it would be a special case."

Jack punched Walter on the shoulder playfully as he walked down the ramp. "Well done, Chevron Guy..."

Sam and Daniel both thanked Walter profusely while they gave their weapons to the waiting Airman. Teal'c solemnly bowed to Walter.

"Sergeant Harriman, you have proved yourself a courageous and brave warrior, as well as master of the gate. You have my gratitude."

"I suppose you'll be wanting to join SG-1 now? General, can we find room for a fifth member?" asked Jack, jokingly.

"Well, thanks, guys, but I think I'll stick to being 'master of the gate', if you don't mind - less dangerous..." said Walter as they left the gateroom. Then he paused and realised something.

Walter groaned and smacked his head.

"What?" the four members of SG-1 asked, turning back.

"I said chevron seven was encoded, not locked..."

Fini.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know, ridiculous, but I couldn't resist. He's such a fun guy to write for! Back to serious stories...


End file.
